


Domestic Snippets

by koalathebear



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fictober 2016, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 00:01:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8306143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: Call me weird, but I totally love fics about domesticity .. I love it when characters are comfortable with one another ...  So nothing exciting here, just some insights into moments of domesticity in the Ginny Baker - Mike Lawson world ...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to the [Fictober 2016 challenge on tumblr](http://weatheredlaw.tumblr.com/post/151121970539/fictober). Word is **domestic**.

Baker and Lawson always sit next to one another on the players' bus or when travelling by air. Even if there's an empty seat beside them, the other players walk right past by, cognisant of the fact that it is in fact reserved for someone else.

In the early days, on some of the trips, when they've had the luxury of two buses or an aeroplane that's only half full, Coach Luongo would ask ironically,"You do know that you can have two seats to yourself, right?"

"We're working," Lawson had told him loftily, gesturing towards the iPad he held in his hand and it was true, the two would generally be leaning over the screen conscientiously, re-watching their own games and critiquing themselves – and each other.

"Conscientious swots," Blip had remarked as he had stretched out in his seat, pulled his cap down to cover his eyes and fallen asleep.

It's different for Baker and Lawson, though. They both know that they have to work harder and smarter than the other players. Ginny's still earning her spot in the team … Mike's aware that his seniority and role as captain are both a blessing and a curse …

These days, Buck just shakes his head as he walks back to his own seat, grinning as he sees Baker and Lawson fast asleep, slumped against one another with Baker's head lolling on Lawson's shoulder. 

"You know you drool when you sleep," Mike teases her.

"You know you snore, right?" Ginny retorts.

Still young and resilient, Ginny gets less worn out from the grind of sleeping in strange places, eating at different times of the night. For Mike with his back issues, just sleeping in different beds can cause problems for him so Ginny scouts out the spa and massage facilities and lines up a therapeutic massage for the both of them.

The first few luxury hotels they stay in, Mike grins at how excited Ginny gets, checking out the  
fully stocked mini-bar, the Olympic-sized indoor pool or the huge workout facility after their 5am check-in.

"Check out the curtains first," he tells her, yawning widely. 

"Huh?"

"You need a thick curtain, one that keeps the sunrise out."

Ginny pulls the travel eye mask out of her bag but Mike shakes his head. "Rookie mistake. You'll learn that a thick curtain is way better than going to sleep with one of those over your eyes …" he tells her.

The late night flights aren't fun either, arriving in a new place at 3 and 4 a.m. doesn't result in the best of sleep, but it's still better than the crazy hours of travelling in the Minors.

Ginny makes sure she does her research, making a note of the hotels that don't have 24-hour room service so that she can make sure she places an order before it's too late.

"Shit," Mike mutters, coming to her room as he realises he's missed the deadline to order from room service.

"You know I got your back, 36," Ginny tells him and lifts the cover on the second plate and slides the double cheese burger with extra pickles towards him.

" _This_ is why I let you stay on the team," he tells her fervently as he devours the burger after what has been a particularly difficult game. He'd eat her burger, too but she slaps his hand away and offers him half of her fries instead.

When she finds herself getting swarmed at the hotels, she takes his lead, telling the fans politely but firmly that she's tired – that she'll sign all their autographs at the ballpark and she just wants to crash and get some shut-eye. She tries to make an exception for the little kids, though … she never feels good turning them down and Mike watches her with an indulgent but slightly exasperated look in his eyes.

"You'll get more cynical when you see that glove end up on eBay being sold for 10 times what it's worth."

"How do they always know where we are?"

"Internet," he replies briefly. "They always track us down …"

Some of the players have wild parties and get up to all sorts of crazy times when they're on the road. Those days are well behind Mike and Ginny's just not interested. It's not really much fun being the only female who's not a baseball groupie in a room full of drunken, raucous men … She knows she's safe, none of them would dare lay a finger on her and by now they've come to treat her as one of them … but it's still not her idea of a good time.

If there's a game of pool, a trivia game … even a game of cards, they might stick around with the others. Other than that – they're out of there.

"You're getting' old before your time hanging out with this old guy, Ginny," Blip teases her as she leaves the bar to head back upstairs to the hotel rooms. Mike heads off soon after her. The baseball groupies exchange knowing glances but the players shake their head laughing. 

"Nuh uh … nothing there, they're just friends."

"Friends with benefits?"

"Friends. If they were fucking – I guarantee we'd know about it."

On the road, the decision about whether to watch a movie in Mike's room or hers depends on who has the better room, the layout that's more conducive for watching a movie, the person whose room is less of a pig-sty. They take turns picking the movie and then stretching out to watch.

"Come on, just raid the minibar," Mike mutters as Ginny rummages for change.

"No way – you think I want to be charged triple what this costs?" she tells him and drags him downstairs and to the Seven Eleven near the hotel. Ginny always stubbornly refuses to use the mini-bar on principle, always preferring to get their snacks from the local grocery store or convenience store.

"But room service is ok," Mike drawls sardonically.

"Room service is _awesome_ ," she retorts, lifting the cover to the plate with glee and stares down at the roast chicken, the crème brulee and the chocolate mousse.

Now and then Amelia and Eliot join them, flying in at short notice to touch base, make sure things are going well, discuss business, have a meal and then they leave again … 

When it's the night before a big game, and Ginny can't sleep, Mike waits for the inevitable knock on the door of his hotel room.

"Guess the meditation techniques didn't work, huh?" he teases and she rolls her eyes and drops onto the large king sized bed beside him – on top of the covers.

He's lost track of the number of nights they've shared a bed, slept together … and as the team well knows, they've never fucked. Mike Lawson, sleeping with a woman platonically. It's seriously got to be one of the signs of the Apocalypse. Shrek tells him he's losing his touch, getting 'soft' in his old age and gets a baseball mitt to the head for his troubles.

"You gotta learn to just focus on the moment … don't over-think tomorrow," he tells her.

So they talk … he tells her about his shitty marriage and the beginning of the end. "She married a ballplayer but then decided she didn't like the life – don’t blame her but … sometimes I wish – " his voice trails off.

They've talked about her dad … her mom… she's never told him that her mom had had an affair with Kevin while her father was still alive. She didn't have to. All the silences and things she didn't say, awkward calls with her mother and even more awkward dinners with Kevin and her mother were more telling than any express words. 

Mike turns his head on his pillow and stares at Ginny in the darkness. She's staring back at him, eyes dark and contemplative, breathing quiet and regular. Her slender hand rests on the pillow, careful not to stray to his side, careful not to touch him … 

They both know … if one of them reached out …invited more … offered more … the other is willing, more than willing. There's desire on both sides … attraction that sparks at the most unexpected of times …

But neither of them want to screw things up … this thing they have – whatever it is … is precious … So there's an unspoken pact, a silent agreement that this is enough. 

For now.


End file.
